Berserker vaguely sensed the presence of the new one here. The one from the hippogriff. Why did that memory stick in her head when what she wanted to think about didn't? Berserker saw the lance point and her face twisted, white knuckles behind armored gauntlets clenching her dagger. She would have attacked immediately were it not for the throbbing Instinct that told her that the lance-wielder(Lancer, maybe?) was hardly a threat at the moment. Berserker glared at the newcomer, understanding her words through patchy scrambles of noise.

Who was Eileen? Should she care? Berserker blinked rapidly, shaking her head and almost pounding it in frustration at her state. This was so much worse than the first night of the insanity, because at least then, it had simply been a battle and then rest. But here, she had fought the servant, but the [b]MAGE[/b] of the servant who had no doubt created this factory was nowhere to be found. And with that, there was no battle to be fought. Berserker paced to the other corner of the room, hating the very air she was breathing for the act that she was unable to destroy it with her fury.

[small]"Nyaa..."[/small]

The small noise was magnified to be a veritable concerto in Berserker's ears. The mad knight whipped around, already pushed to her breaking point and ready to seek battle at the lightest provocation in an attempt to seal this gaping wound of rage. Rather than see hostility though, she saw a small cat. Berserker stopped walking, her head and arms twitching as she just stared at the cat. It was so small, so vulnerable. Berserker approached it, arms hanging limply, dagger dissipated into mana. She cocked her head, the gritted teeth of her terrible expression showing not a lick of mercy. Surely she was about to rip the animal apart in an act of hatred for the pain coursing through her.

She pet it.

Berserker ignored both of the other servants, whose non-hostile presence was giving her a migraine, and sat herself down to gently toy with the cat's head. Though her fingers spasmed and moved in odd, painful ways, she managed to form a dam against the anger and gently play with the small cat. The lion was daunted, the avenger conquered. Berserker's eyes which could see nothing but enemies before her cleared ever so briefly to see the small, harmless scrap of fur. Like a raging river, the tide of anger that urged her to strangle...something surged. Surged yes, but washed harmlessly around a few key things that Berserker could pinpoint even in the midst of her fury.
[IMG]https://lparchive.org/Fatestay-night/Update%2056/27-F08-07b-25.jpg[/IMG]
Berserker could suddenly breathe, see, and hear again. It wasn't painful. So long as the cat was here, she could know she was still here, and not insanely chasing phantoms only she could see. She wouldn't, couldn't do that. Focus. On. The. Cat. Focus. On. The. Cat.

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